The Devil's Dance [TakodaVega x Uriel Seraphim]

[TakodaVega]

With fingers steepled on the white marble desk in front of him, piercing blue eyes looked through the long black bangs that threatened to fall across his face. "Let me make sure I heard you, correctly, servant." He spoke slowly, the midnight caress seeped into something no passion could cool. Rage, and directed towards what he deemed a halfwit who didn't even belong in his presence. The fact the creature wasn't burning was a true testament of Lucifer's restraint on his temper. Very few rivaled the man in his temper, save for Satan. Satan lingered in the lower levels however, he was the true ruler of Hell after all. Lucifer was the one who did the day-to-day business, it made logical sense. Satan was too busy trying to figure out how to overthrow Yahweh and break this prison that he and his minions had been given.

Which left Lucifer to deal with shit like this. He would love to just reach over the desk and strangle the horned frog-like creature. Though that would be a waste of energy, despite how many different ways he looked about trying to kill the thing, and how many different ways it could die. However a horned frog had more brains than the demon in front of him. Belphegor was still squeezing his hands in front of him as he floated above the stool, even then he still remained on a lower scale than Lucifer. Again the condescending voice filled the room, "You let a human outwit you," Not surprisingly, "And then instead of having his soul Damned to hell for eternity for Satan's army, you let the man find a genuine priest of Holy intentions? And you call yourself a demon."

Lucifer's hands flexed causing Belphegor to flinch in front of him, visibly trying to move away from him, but the air thrummed with power. "Must I show you all how to do things properly?" He stated, palms moving to the cool marble, his legs remaining crossed under the table away from view. Once upon a time, Lucifer had been known as Lucifel - one of Yahweh's most promising and devoted generals. Till the day he saw the usefulness of demons and Mankind. The thoughts had grown until She had been the last stone thrown to upstart the Second War against the High King. What became of the Seraphim he had almost lost memory of, he had seen glimpses of. Almost. Whatever she was was certainly beyond his power to control. The woman was easy on the eyes, no doubt. But what had caught his attention then was her open rebellion to the High King. Something unheard of, it had clicked into place.

That was how Lucifer got here. His once blond hair now as black as midnight, though the once pale skin now was a sunkissed tan that never faded. Though seated one could tell he was a tall man. Tall enough to be foreboding even wall sitting. Belphegor shifted again still wringing his hands, "Master can p-punish me as he s-sees fit. Please show this worthless demon the correct way to ensnare the humans." He sniveled as he tried not to even to shift his weight so much knowing he was only provoking the Lord of Hell. He wasn't a prince like Beelzebub, nor the Low King that Satan was, but he ruled Dis with a tactic that oozed with an ego of will. A will that had become somewhat self-absorbed over the past few centuries.

"You're not worth the time to proper punish. Instead you shall learn, and learn fucking well." Came Lucifer's much softer, deadlier voice as those eyes flickered. He could easily think of something to do to prove to Belphegor how easy it would be to seduce a mortal into the darkness of Hell. The sweet temptation that lust offered that maybe only love could redeem. However no one knew what was going on Lucifer's mind when he finally disappeared from the city of Dis, dark mirth filling the void the man had once sat with the high back chair to hide the raven wings his once bright lit wings had become.

On Earth things were far different. Contrary to the old stories Lucifer could come and go as he please, with a price of course. As the sun passed over the man, his shadows slowly showed the change, skin falling away to the ground as gray brown scales started to cover him until his body wound about into a distinctive coil. Black scales slid down his back as the horn on top of his snout remained erected. A black tongue darted out, tasting the air a few moments before deciding it was safe to move. He was looking for a distinctive smell. Sliding over rocks he came in contact with he curled up on a few boulders nearby and waited. Soon his prey would find him. Why he had decided on this particular group had been relatively simple. A female scent had lingered in the air. Distant still but approaching still. He darted out his tongue again. He could almost taste her completely. How long had it been since he had actually decided to bring down someone to Hell? Not since the war. Unless it included reminding the Succubi their 'job'.

[Uriel Seraphim]

Natalie walked barefoot through the far side of the park, her pink cotton dress swaying with each step. She knew her destination well, a pocket in the tall untamed grass sheltered by a willow tree within viewing distance of the lake. It had been her grounding spot since the fifth grade when she and her father would go for their evening walks. For Natalie, it held more than memories of a father passed, but often served as a place where, just for a few hours, the rest of the world would fall away into a distant oblivion.

She waded through the thick grass, tall blades tickling the base of her thighs as she did, until finally the willow came into view. Notebook in hand, she sat beneath it and sighed in relief as she relaxed against its trunk. Soft blue eyes stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight traversed its surface in liquid shivers. The sound of birds making their final calls as the sun began its steady decline made her smile, head tilted back to rest against coarse bark.

Today had been more difficult than most for Nat. Correction, Jeremy had made today more difficult than most. She'd spent third period picking spit balls out of her hair and attempting to drown out the sound of her fellow classmates whispering names behind her back. You would think Seniors in their last year of schooling had progressed beyond such childish games, but much to Natalie's detriment, it was not quite so. 'Frigid Bitch' was their favorite pet name at the moment, one no doubt spurred on by Jeremy's scorn for being turned down at their last spring formal.

18, and still a virgin, that was Natalie's only crime. It wasn't that she didn't WANT to... well... be intimate. But things had never seemed right, and the fear and embarrassment that came with such intimacy... the possibilities always made her hesitate. She didn't want to be used. Not to mention her faith, of course, forbid such a thing. A delicate white hand reached up to clutch at the silver cross around her neck. Her father would be watching as well, the idea of disappointing him... no, that was something Natalie could never bring herself to do.

With a sigh, her hand feel away from the elegant pendant and instead went to the old and tattered notebook. From behind her ear she produced a pencil, and with silent concentration, she began to sketch  the scene before her, as she had done a million times before.

[TakodaVega]

Lucifer's senses didn't deceive him as he slid away from the warm heat of the stones to move along the grass. He could taste her, innocent and sugar, with a hint of the spice of someone who knew their worth. He took his time until he could finally ease his gaze upon her, coiling in the longer grass so that his new quarry didn't spot him and run. She was a pretty little thing, but there was a sorrow to her as well. He could taste it on her.

However, he could tell just by looking at her, his new conquest would be no easy task. Or it maybe it would be, who knew? He was certain that this one had quite a bit more spirit than her sweet and innocent appearance gave off. He darted out his tongue once more waiting ever so patiently. There are many things about her that intrigued him. She was a writer and a dreamer, that meant something to him. It meant a vivid imagination behind the female's gaze. He could appreciate that, as he once had. After all, even with all his prowess and possible imposing appearance, he still had a good deal of cunning to keep the City of Dis and in sequence Hell itself in order. 

Something tainted the air around her though, which made him pause as he thought over how to go about his plan to bring the girl to the 'dark side' as it were. Sorrow, and it was heavy in the air. It was bitter and stung his senses raw on some level. He couldn't understand someone being perhaps even more bitter than he had ever been. True he had forsaken the God that was adored by all, except for those who suffered in Hell. Yet, Lucifer had chosen that path willingly, for Heaven was far more corrupt than Hell could ever be. At least women could raise an opinion to him and they would get heard at the very least.

That settled it for him. No God would let such a daughter of His go through such sorrow alone. He slid through the grass and made his way behind the tree, remaining focused on the girl. He had to do this with the finesse or his entire plan could backfire at him. Seeing the cross on her didn't bother him as it would say Satan who had been born from Hell itself. Once a child of God, always a child of God no matter how forsaken they were. There was something about eventually earning Redemption those of the Fallen yearned for should they never learn the Truth as Lucifer had.

As the scales fell away and he stretched slightly, he thought about the next few minutes carefully. They could go horribly wrong or right if he played his cards right. He glanced at his reflection in the water. Wings wouldn't do as they fell away, not before pulling a feather from one of his wings, tucking into a jacket that melded into his being. He looked human, his long hair falling slightly in front of his face. Leaning against the tree he peered over her slightly. She was completely absorbed in her drawing that for now she didn't realize he was there.

He crossed his arms across his chest, though built he wasn't overly so, more like a predator of a man, awash in midnight. Black jeans covered his legs, a silky black button up shirt peered beneath a black leather jacket. A pair of shades covered his piercing blue eyes at first. His image practically screamed 'bad boy' from novels, but his focus seemed to be on her. "Does your family know you wander into places like this by yourself? Seems dangerous for a young lady by herself." Came the soft baritone from above her. While he may be devious he knew the best way to lure anyone to Hell was to gain trust. Trust meant everything and that meant no true mind games, not yet.

[Uriel Seraphim]

Perhaps it was the setting sun or the fresh scent of the willow tree, but something made her feel peaceful today, even more so than usual. Her pencil seemed to flow of its own accord, focused solely on capturing the atmosphere of fresh spring warmth surrounding her favorite hide away. Contentment surrounded her, filling her to the point in which she though, perhaps her sketches themselves could carry her away. She felt, perhaps, it was her father's doing; his spirit that inhabited this place, filling it with both his strength and his love even from behind heavens gates. It was God's doing, this small shred of untouched beauty, and for that, she gave thanks. 

She missed him, even in her silent serenity. Unlike most of the people she knew, her father had been the one to bring her up. He was an architect while still alive and worked from home so he could care for his daughter while his wife worked to keep the outside world safe. He loved her, taught her things about faith no pastor would dare say, such as the presence of God could be found in nature stronger than it could be found in any church. Never in her memory could she find a moment where he didn't smile. But her mother never smiled, never hugged or kissed her daughter even as a child. At the age of six she had asked her father if her mother hated her. Of course, it was not the case. But Liyra, her mother, had never been a highly affectionate person. Her father had simply explain that not all people wear their hearts on their sleeves, and though honesty is always desirable, some people learnt it was best to keep emotions locked up inside to minimize the heart break. The day after, Natalie had waited until midnight just to give her mother a cuddle and say 'I love you mummy, even if you don't cuddle like daddy does.' That was the first time Natalie had ever seen her mother cry. It was found it strange as she contemplated her own demeanor; outwardly she had become her mother, but at heart her father's gentle nature and openness prevailed.

Natalie yipped rather than gasped when he spoke, closed and clutched the notebook to her chest before turning both towards him and backing away from him a few scoots. No one came here anymore, not since the council deemed it unfit and restricted access. That, however, didn't stop a few of the elderly people with dementia from the home just across from this abandoned side of the park breaking in from time to time. But they were easily returned home. Everyone else was too frightened of the rumors of murder and rape that often happened here. None of it was true of course, and her mother would know, what with her being a police officer.

She took in his appearance quickly, his height and the set of his shoulders, his clothes, the way he stood. There was something wild about him, dark and tempting lurking behind the persona of a typical rebellious bad boy persona he presented. She couldn't deny he was attractive, but that only added to her embarrassment. She blushed, pressed herself back against the tree and tried to relax her nervous form. "Better I be here than off drinking like everyone else." She murmured. Natalie had been drunk once, but once was enough. If the hang over itself wasn't penance enough, the hours in church she spent afterwards saying her 'Hail Mary's' was definitely not worth the blurred visions and impaired judgment she endured during. 

She sighed and reopened her sketch book, finding the led slightly smudged by her rushed actions. She huffed closed the book and set it down beside her. There was no point continuing with failed work.

[TakodaVega]

Lucifer couldn't help but chuckle lightly and eyed his scampering pray with intent. Shifting off of the tree he offered her a hand in a casual gesture, "That would be a moot point, except you don't look like one of those girls that would party with that crowd." He quirked an eyebrow, eying the sweet creature with interest. "That didn't answer the question though. However where are my manners?" Came the male's voice as he gave the woman a small, polite, bow to her. "My name is Seth. And what might your name be?"

He was rather intrigued by the fact a woman of such a pious background, as the touch of holiness seemed to envelope her like a thick cloak, would wander into such a seemingly dangerous place alone. To sketch? She was certainly a beauty to behold to boot. It was going to fun to tempt such a damsel from such a high pedestal. But he had to be cautious he knew that as he carefully knelt beside her.

"That's a rather lovely drawing you have as well. Are there others like it?" He was being sweet, charismatic, the a-typical Lucifer he always had been. Even before he had Fallen far from grace. He knew his game right now, he needed to earn her trust before any steps could be taken to tempt her into his good graces. It was always a timeful game. Right now he had all the time in the world...so long as she let him.